I gave birth to my son 16 days before my 30th birthday, on 3rd October. I never thought I'd have children. I'd had a bit of an ectopic episode the previous year. I'll spare you the details.
He's 10 tomorrow. Ten. X. Dix. Zehn. TEN. How did that happen? He can't be. He went out to play with his mates on the football field at the weekend. By himself. Twice. Mrs 'laissez-faire, all-will-be-will, que sera sera' was a nervous wreck. I became uncontrollably grumpy and didn't like it at all. Not one bit. Ten. Pahhhhh. I keep thinking that in 10 years time he'll be at college drinking and having a good time with not a me in sight. That's not good either.
So...if I didn't have my little milestone to climb over, I've got his too. Oh, yes, and our wedding anniversary. We got married on my birthday in 1995, so that's 12 years this year. So many things to remember all in one month.
I've got the ingredients to make lots of healthy calorie-free soup. A friend was telling me about her juicing regime and it all sounded fabulous but a little cold. So, for the next few days, I will mostly be taking flasks of boiling hot green soup to college with me so that the temptation of the newly discovered bacon baps in the canteen just turns tail and slinks off.
College is still a blast. Ceramics on Monday was loverly. Lots of drawing and freedom to mess about. Printmaking today was marvellous. Lots of cutting and sticking and making textures. I still feel guilty that I'm allowed to go and spend 6 hours a day just messing. Some of my fellow students seem slightly upset about all sorts of things but I just can't be. £120 for a year's worth of creativity. Can't be bad.